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TO   THE   LIGHTHOUSE

whose temper, neither sanguine nor despondent,
surveys with equanimity what is to be and faces it,

came to his help again.    R-------

The lizard's eye flickered once more. The
veins on his forehead bulged. The geranium in
the urn became startlingly visible and, displayed
among its leaves, he could see, without wishing it,
that old, that obvious distinction between the two
classes of men; on the one hand the steady goers
of superhuman strength who, plodding and
persevering, repeat the whole alphabet in order,
twenty-six letters in all, from start to finish; on
the other the gifted, the inspired who, miracu-
lously, lump all the letters together in one flash—
the way of genius. He had not genius; he laid no
claim to that: but he had, or might have had, the,|
power to repeat every letter of the alphabet from
A to Z accurately in order. Meanwhile, he stuck
at Q, On, then, on to R, '

Feelings that would  not  have  disgraced  a
leader who, now that the snow has begun to fall >
and the mountain-top is covered in mist, knows
that he must lay himself down and die before t
morning  comes,   stole   upon   him,   paling   the^
colour of his eyes, giving him, even in the two
minutes of his turn on the terrace, the bleached
look of withered old age.   Yet he would not die;
lying down; he would find some crag of rock, and-